It was a hot day a few weeks back and I was in the area and really just needed to churn one out, but I should have known better.
I did know better, but somehow even that didn't deter me.
I walked inside, and the place stank of stale cigarette smoke, bad a/c and years of bodily fluids. Should have walked, but didn't.
The masseuse appeared, bags under the eyes, weary from 30 years of rubbing cocks. Should have ran, but didn't.
£30 for 30. Should have given it to a homeless person instead.
Into the room, the pokey, dirty little room. Got undressed, instead of looking for a rear exit.
Lay down on the bed, wondering what I was going to catch or what might bite me.
In she comes, 'hello darling', half arsed attempt at rubbing oil around the back. Give the balls a little rub and ask if I want extras. HE, no price quoted, off she goes, a disinterested chuff, taking some time to get to full mast as I try not to breathe through my nose to avoid the stale smell. Briefly considered not breathing at all.
After what seemed like an eternity while I considered my life choices, the wee fella stands to attention while I think about the filthiest shit possible to get this over with. I pop, she starts wiping it up, I ask for a shower and spend the next 5 minutes wondering what ailments surround me in the cubicle.
Dry up, dress, leave £20 on the table and run. WTF was I thinking.
Don't be like me.
